Worth The Wait
by Hisa-Ai
Summary: Arthur returns at last, and he and Merlin can finally have the happy ending that they both have earned. "Marry me?" He asked, licking his lips with anticipation.


**I started writing this a few months back, forgot all about it, and then found it again while going through some files on my computer about a week or so ago and was informed by very important people on tumblr that I needed to finish it for the sake of humanity, so here we are.**

**Let it be known that I have never, in my life, been to a wedding. However, I googled some shit and also there have been a few TV weddings that I've seen, so I think I did okay with this, overall.**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything. And since I believe _Merlin_ counts as a thing, that must mean I don't own it/him either, which is such a shame, too, because owning Merlin would just about be the best thing in the history of the world.

* * *

_Worth The Wait_

* * *

*.*.*.*.*

It took too many lifetimes, too many _years,_ before things were right again, before Merlin was no longer alone, before the world was so broken that the only thing that could fix it, the only person who could make things right again, was needed once more. It took far too many years before the wrongs of the past were righted.

But, as far as Merlin was concerned, it… was worth the wait. All the lonely years, all the sleepless nights, all the tears, all the unanswered prayers, all the nightmares and longing—it was all _worth it_ the day the air stirred with magic and he was drawn to the lake, to the spot he'd said his hardest goodbye so many years and lifetimes ago. It was all _worth it_ when he grasped Arthur's hand and pulled him up, when he tugged him close and hugged him tight, promising to never let go, to never leave him, never say goodbye again.

The world might have been crumbling around them—if Arthur was back, Merlin had no doubt of that—but it made sense again, it was _right_ once more. That was all that mattered.

*.*.*.*.*

Merlin might have been a fool of some sort to think, for as long as he had, that Arthur would be the only one called forward again when the world needed him most—he might have been some sort of fool not to think that the Once And Future King would need his knights of the round table to save the world from whatever might have been harming it so much that he was needed again.

"You might have been," Arthur teased often once they were reunited with Gwaine, with Lancelot, with Elyan, with Leon, with Percival, with Gwen—whom Merlin suspected was back because Fate had decided she and Lancelot should have another shot at their own love story—because they were all back together again and what was Merlin crying about it for?

But, of course, Arthur _knew_—because Merlin had told him, told him as soon as he could all that had happened, all that he'd been through, all his life had _been_ as he awaited Arthur's return—and he interrupted the teasing with a well-placed kiss to his temple or a tight hug that he would not let Merlin out of until his sniffling had safely ceased.

The past didn't matter anymore, Merlin often mumbled to himself; all that mattered anymore was that Arthur was back, their friends were back—perhaps not all of them, not their parents, not Gaius or any of the other knights, or Morgana or Mordred or anyone else they had known once upon a different lifetime—and they all had new lives. They had new opportunities, fewer restrictions, they were no longer bound by rules and traditions, or societal taboos or ranks that no one found any sort of comfort in—this was a different world, and Merlin embraced it, as soon as he could allow himself to embrace anything again, and adapted to it just as the others did, in their own time.

*.*.*.*.*

The reason for their return to the world was made known in the form of a vision, which came to Merlin on a cool summer night when he was wrapped too tightly in Arthur's arms, the shock of it enough to jolt him up, straight out of Arthur's vice-grip of an embrace.

It was more of the same—destiny and prophecies and those who would take power not theirs to begin with and cause harm to those with no means of defending themselves. It was more complicated than before, of course, as the rest of the world had given up on magic, and the throne was no longer Arthur's.

But, of course, that was perhaps the reason for the knights' return as well as Arthur's; he didn't need an army to save anyone, he needed only his friends, his love, needed people in need, and people willing to fight with him or die trying—if any of them even _thought_ about dying this time around, however, Merlin promised a fate even worse than that with a twitch of his eyes in the direction of Arthur, Gwaine, and Lancelot, in particular—his throne might have been a nice perk once, but this time around… He freely admitted to Merlin, to their friends, that perhaps it was all for the best that it was no longer his.

Perhaps everything was just… for the best, this time around.

*.*.*.*.*

The threat was great, as it always was, but, at the end of things, it stood no chance against Merlin, against Arthur, the knights, what they fought for. And the world might never have known—"Not until after we're long gone." Merlin promised them, melancholy in his voice and the way he held himself with the words, with the thought of them all being gone once again—but it was _safe_; the kingdom that was no longer Arthur's would thrive—survive—again, none the wiser to the danger it had been in.

But that was for the best, Merlin assured them, as the people… well, they were not as people had once been, and they did not take well to news that they had been so close to death, to the world falling into such hands; it did not make them feel safe in the hands of those that had saved them, merely made them paranoid and untrusting.

But that didn't matter. Not once the kingdom was safe once again, not once the world was quiet, stirring only with Merlin's magic now and forever in a time that would rather leave the thought of magic itself in a past they were all too keen to cut ties with and yet always seemed to _want_ in their present. And this _present_ world they were meant to thrive in—oh, it was an odd one indeed, but they adjusted rather quickly—_flourished_, even—when they no longer had things like destiny and war weighing them down.

*.*.*.*.*

Peaceful years went by, and they were all rather adjusted to their new world, they went to school, or got jobs, dated, slept around—they lived, really, different lives, freer and _happy_ without the restrictions Camelot had had on many of them.

Gwen and Lancelot, to no one's surprise, were married just months after things were calm and safe once again. And there were no hard feelings between either of them and Arthur, given his and Gwen's past—there _couldn't_ be, not when he wrapped his entire being around Merlin, when he took his hand while they were out and about, when he backed him against the counter in the home they had together to kiss him senseless for the most ridiculous of reasons, when he couldn't stop staring at him, marveling at the sight he had denied himself that suffocating lifetime ago.

Arthur couldn't feel bad, angry, or anything of the such when Guinevere married Lancelot because Arthur himself had already moved on, in a way, long before they were even reunited.

*.*.*.*.*

Arthur and Merlin, of course, were still entirely stubborn in this new age. They still bickered and argued, insulted each other, but, it was known to all, they would walk to the ends of the earth—or, in Merlin's case, wait out eternity—for each other, loved each other with their entire souls and more. Time couldn't change fate, time couldn't change true love or soul mates—if Merlin had learned _anything_ over his too long lifetime, it was that time changed everything except for the things that mattered most—and if anything at all mattered, it was _Arthur._

Which, yeah, no, he would only tell Arthur on nights when they were too drunk on their love and each other and he didn't _care_ when Arthur brought it up again or what he had to say in response to it. Lucky for him, on such nights, Arthur didn't care any more than Merlin did about such things; he would merely chuckle in response, a spark of love in his eyes, and kiss him—slow and carefree and oh so sweet—in response.

"I love you." Merlin would say, again and again and _again_, because he could, because Arthur was in his arms and he was _real_ again, not just a fantasy, some fading memory, he was _real_ and sometimes—oh, _sometimes_ he just needed to remind himself of that.

"I love _you."_ Arthur would echo, because he knew Merlin needed nothing more than that sometimes, needed to be reassured that Arthur _was_ there, that he _did_ love him, that he wasn't going anywhere, that he would never go anywhere—not if he could help it.

And that was all he needed, all he wanted anymore, now that destiny was done with them, now that Merlin seemed to be aging again, now that they were free to do as they pleased for once in so many years and lifetimes.

*.*.*.*.*

Arthur had plans that Merlin didn't need to know about right away, plans that included tight-lipped secrets and hushed plans between friends that knew all too well how much this would all mean to Merlin. And it was all _worth it_ once again when Arthur, after too many months of planning and slipping between truths and half-lies, popped down on one knee on one of those nights when they were drunk on their love and not much else, a night when they were surrounded by their friends and they were all _happy_ and enjoying these moments where nothing else in the world mattered at all.

"Marry me?" He asked, licking his lips with anticipation.

He'd had an entire speech written out proclaiming his love and how centuries apart couldn't even seem to diminish it, how he needed nothing else but Merlin, how Merlin was _everything_, how his love was his destiny, how he was sick of waiting, how _Merlin_ had been waiting too long for this moment—he'd planned out the entire evening, really: how he would steal Merlin away and do this in seclusion so, if he wanted to say no, there was no pressure from the others to do otherwise.

But then he had looked over at Merlin, at the way he was laughing, poking fun at Elyan and the way he was besotted himself with a girl he'd just started seeing, and, well, he hadn't been able to help himself.

With the entire room quiet, with everyone watching, with Arthur baring his very _soul_ with just two words and his eyes swimming with everything he could ever allow himself to want out of Merlin, he watched as Merlin's eyes welled up with tears and he leaned forward, practically knocking Arthur off balance as he kissed him multiple times, mutterings of, "Yes, yes—yes, you idiot—_yes!" _Audible between the chaste and then not-so-chaste kisses.

Arthur decided then that he'd never seen Merlin happier, and he was going to have to change that soon enough.

*.*.*.*.*

Merlin went about with the planning of the wedding after they celebrated their engagement properly, and, being the skilled sorcerer that he was—that Arthur often forgot he was, in those moments when he was so helpless under his touch, melting beautifully under his every caress—had it all planned in no time at all, because he was too tired of waiting, Arthur suspected.

The wedding ceremony itself was to be a small affair; neither of them had any family, only their closest of friends—Gwen, Gwaine, Leon, Percival, Elyan, and Lancelot—and a handful of others they would have been happy to share in such an event with, would be in attendance.

It was not, however, the flowers or decorations, it wasn't the cake, the food, the rings, the venue, the suits they wore… It was what it meant to the both of them, to finally be able to stand there, on that breezy spring day and commit their _souls_ and hearts to each other for the rest of eternity; what it meant to be told to speak, then, from their hearts to each other, make promises and confessions that everyone could already read between their eyes, their teary-eyed smiles, the way they looked at each other, the way they touched and marveled at what they had in one another…

"Arthur…" Merlin breathed, laughing nervously at himself, at the tears already beginning to trickle down his face.

Arthur laughed as well, a soft chuckle as he unclasped one of his hands from Merlin's and wiped at his tears. "It's all right, love; in your own time." He whispered, which only made Merlin hiccup with another sob before he swatted Arthur's hand away, having decided it was _not_ helping in the least.

"I…" Merlin took in a shaky breath, steadying himself as he went on. "Have waited... _so long _for you to come back to me. I've looked for you in the sky, the stars, the sea, while we were apart, waiting to find you, waiting to feel your love, to know you loved me, too." He paused, hiccupping again when he heard a few of their friends choke on sobs of their own.

"I've waited what feels like a thousand lifetimes to hold you, tell you I love you, kiss you, make love to you, argue with you, call you a dollophead—I've waited _so long_ for you, Arthur… And I would wait even longer—I'd wait another thousand years, another thousand lifetimes for you, because… because you're worth the wait, Arthur. Every agonizing moment of it. Every breath-taking second I have with you is worth a thousand years of pain and then some… You'll always be worth the wait, and… I would always wait for you—_always_. I promise."

Arthur took in a shaky breath of his own, then, fighting the urge to kiss away the tears streaming down Merlin's face, choked against the ones streaming down his own face.

"Your turn, you prat." Merlin sniffled, grinning against his tears, too caught on happiness to even pretend to be cross with Arthur in that moment.

"Merlin…" Arthur shook his head, shaking loose a few stray tears in the process. "I've never… I never meant to make you wait for me, never meant to cause you such pain—and if I could take it back, if I could make it all hurt less, I would, but… all I can do now… all I can do is try to make it up to you. All I can do is make those seconds worth it, all I can do is make the rest of this life, the rest of our years, worth the ones we didn't have together.

"I hope I can do it, hope I'm really worth all those years, all that waiting you had to do. I _want_ to be worth it, I want you to have everything that makes you happy, want you to live the rest of this life with nothing but happiness stretched out in front of you. I… I just want you to be _happy,_ love, and…" Arthur smiled softly, his eyes crinkling with the sentiment. "Loving me, no matter how… impossible and nonsensical… it seems to make you happy. I'm not going to make you wait to love me any longer, Merlin—I'm _here,_ I'm yours to love for the rest of your life, the rest of mine, the rest of eternity. As long as you want me, I'm yours. No more waiting." Arthur finished, stubborn, sure, in his promise in a way that made Merlin laugh, shake his head lovingly at him in response.

Neither of them could much be bothered with the rest of the ceremony after that; they each, in turn, shot the man performing the ceremony impatient looks to urge him to hurry up. With a soft grin of his own, he complied, speeding through it to the best of his ability; neither of them focused much on anything but each other after that until he said they should slip the rings onto each other's fingers, until he said repeat after him, until he said they could kiss, and then—_then_ it was all Merlin gripping Arthur too tight, their mouths lining up too perfectly, more tears and applause and cheers from their friends and nothing else mattering in the world except for the way they melted together without a care in the world or a thought to anything that hadn't mattered for too many lifetimes now.

*.*.*.*.*

The ceremony was just the beginning of it, of course, because Merlin had insisted, for some reason he no longer understood, that _yes,_ it _was_ necessary to have a reception, to have music and food and drink and a cake and everything else that modern wedding receptions _had_.

The reception had more people than the actual wedding did, and Merlin began to regret that decision as soon as it was made clear that there would be no sneaking away to have a quick shag in a coat closet somewhere. Everyone wanted to offer up their words of wisdom, of advice, of congratulations; everyone wanted to talk about this and that and coo over how _happy_ the pair of them seemed now—how they were positively _glowing_ with happiness.

Which, yeah, when Merlin had half a moment between the pulsing crowd and the jittery questions and bubbling attendees who meant well, he was… _so happy_. Happier than he'd ever been, when he thought about it. He and Arthur… they were married now. Husbands, partners in life forever more. There was nothing between them anymore, not time or rules or people—they were, at long last, united in love and soul; two sides of the same coin together again.

Of course, few people there that day would ever know any of that—to most people there, they were simply two men who were head over heels for each other, lost in a love that few would ever find in their lifetime—to a handful of others, however… it was a love that took a few too many years to come together in this way, and to them… well, they understood, when they shook their hands, held them in tight embraces and wished them well-wishes, what it all truly meant to the pair of them to finally have done this.

And Arthur and Merlin were glad to have them there for it.

The high emotions of the wedding were not lost, of course—every time Merlin caught Arthur's eye, every time they leaned close for a kiss, every time someone reminded them that _yes_ they were married now, Merlin felt a tugging in his chest, in the bottom of his very soul, and it made him want to cry all over again.

There was no time for any of that, however; they _did_ have other things to see to, food to eat, toasts to make before they would have their first dance as a married couple—which Arthur had spent _months_ preparing for in hopes of making Merlin look like a gangly idiot on the dance floor when compared to _him_, the prat—and, of course, the cake.

*.*.*.*.*

As soon as they were all seated for dinner and settled in with their champagne, which Merlin could barely get down, he was so excited about the whole event, it was time for the toasts. The lot of them were familiar with toasts, of course, but wedding toasts… Had never been something that has been done in their time, in Camelot, but Gwaine, Lancelot, and Gwen had insisted upon trying their hands at it—because if anyone deserved such a thing, it was the pair of them.

So, seated comfortably next to one another, their hands entangled, eyes lost to one another more than anything else, Arthur and Merlin watched as Gwaine strode to the center of the front of the room, quite sober, much to their surprise, and let the microphone dangle in his hand as though he was inconvenienced by having to hold it at all.

"Arthur and Merlin," he clucked his tongue, shaking his head with something of a grin on his face as he looked down at the drink in his other hand. "You two have been through more than any other couple I know. I remember back when—" he shook his head, voice catching on the words in a way that most would simply attribute to happiness or over-whelming emotion. "—the pair of you were being such idiots about everything, before you were together—the flirting, the teasing, the constant eye-sex—the sexual tension between the pair of you was so intense, I was almost certain I'd have to lock you in a room together until you shagged it out. There was one night, you pair were so pissed, you almost got it on right there in the tavern, had to drag you home by the ears before you started dry humping in front of everyone.

"In the end, though… you managed all right by yourselves. It took… far longer than any of us would have liked, but you did it, and you've earned this—all of this. The beautiful ceremony, this amazing reception, the fantastic sex you'll have on your honeymoon." He winked across the room at the pair of them, and they rolled their eyes in return, trying to pretend to be annoyed with him, but, of course, they weren't really.

"You've earned it all. And I want the pair of you to know, we're all… so happy for you. So glad you could finally have this, so glad you could finally be together like this. So. To the newly-weds, congratulations. And, Merlin, try to think of _Arthur_ tonight and not me—once in a while is fine, but on your wedding night… that might be a _bit_ awkward. Cheers!" He tipped his glass backwards, handing the microphone off to Lancelot as they quickly traded places, the guests all taking sips of their drinks as Arthur and Merlin shook their heads with silent laughter at their friend.

"Right, _he_ is an idiot, but he means well," Lancelot chuckled, shaking his head as he took a quick sip of his drink. "But, he has a point: you two," He looked to Merlin and Arthur, smiling fondly. "Have… been through a lot to get to this point. At times, it seemed like Fate herself was conspiring against you while Destiny kept trying to push you together. Some days, none of us knew if you'd wind up together or not—you certainly deserved it, but some days it was hard to tell, and harder to wonder what was going to happen, at the end of things.

"I've known Merlin for a long time now, and in all that time… I've never seen him care more about anyone than he cares about Arthur. I've never seen him look at someone with the devotion that he looks at Arthur with, I've never seen someone so willing to sacrifice the things he's sacrificed for Arthur. Some would call him a fool for half the things he's done for his new husband, but I call him the bravest man I know, I call him a _good_ man, someone who loves with everything he has and more.

"And Arthur… well, he's just lucky to have someone like Merlin to put up with him. And Merlin's lucky to have someone like Arthur to keep him on his toes. May you two enjoy all the happiness you've earned and then some." Once again, the glasses were tipped in Arthur and Merlin's direction, and Lancelot traded places on the stage with Gwen, who was beaming and trying not to cry as she pushed down a sip of her champagne at the end of his speech.

"Well, I don't know what I can say that those two haven't, but…" She chuckled softly to herself, clutching her champagne flute to her chest, the microphone tight in her other hand. "Arthur was a different man before he met Merlin. He was… arrogant, pratish, bit of jerk, full of himself—these are Merlin's words, of course, not mine—" She added, almost teasing, loosened, perhaps, by the champagne, by the taste of love on the air itself. "But then he met Merlin, and he'd never admit it, but… he's changed him. He's a different person because of Merlin. Compassionate, caring, understanding—they both bring out the best in each other even while they're bringing out the worst.

"I suppose what I'm trying to say is… they were made for each other and I'm… so glad I—so glad all of us—could be here today for this moment, could be here for them as they begin the next part of their lives together. They make each other _so happy_—they've always made each other happy, even when they're getting in each other's faces—_especially_ when they're getting in each other's faces—even when they pretend they hate each other, they… they love each other so, _so_ much and they deserve this, deserve to finally have what they want—what they've always wanted, what they deserve. Really, truly, I wish you two nothing but happiness and love in your future. If any of us have earned this, it's the two of you. Cheers."

*.*.*.*.*

The speeches were all lovely—even the one Arthur made thanking everyone for being there, for sharing their special day with them, because Merlin had been too choked up by all of it to say anything himself; Arthur, even, had barely kept himself composed as he kissed the top of Merlin's head and quickly, quietly, took Gwen's place in front of everyone, his voice cracking just so when he spoke briefly about Merlin and how he, too, wanted to thank everyone for being there, he was just too emotional at the moment, the girl's petticoat.

As soon as they were finished with all that, when their dinner was eaten, toasts complete, more mingling and congratulations passed to the newly-weds… it was time for their first dance.

The floor was cleared and the song they'd picked for the occasion—something slow, sweet, that they had both agreed would be perfect for them, for this day—began to play as they were announced and made their way to the center of things, nervous and giddy, free and tingling as they came together, melting as one as they swept across the dance floor with a lot more grace than Arthur would have given Merlin credit for—"Cheating sorcerer." He huffed in Merlin's ear when he tugged him closer, which Merlin only chuckled at in response.

It was only the two of them in those long moments, until the final notes began to play and they kissed, coming close together as their friends applauded around them until they took to the dance floor themselves, avoiding disturbing the pair of them as best as they could as something more upbeat began to play and the rest of them began to enjoy themselves.

"Save it for the honeymoon." Percival teased as he passed by them, grinning at Merlin when he finally released Arthur from his grip.

"Can't wait that long." He shrugged, leaning forward to catch Arthur's lips once again.

"At least wait until we get some of that cake, hm? Looks delicious." Gwaine added, tugging Percival away from the pair.

"Sorry, can't make any promises." Merlin replied a moment before Arthur brought his hand up to card through Merlin's hair and then tugged him close for another kiss, tasting sweeter on Merlin's lips now that they were married than he ever had before.

*.*.*.*.*

"I get to feed you cake first." Arthur declared, eyeing the cake—a simple, elegant, three-tier thing that, like Gwaine had said, looked _delicious—_from his spot at a table with Merlin, Elyan, and Leon.

"No way." Merlin shook his head, drumming his fingers against the silky tablecloth as he let his eyes wander around the room—that had been a compromise on his part, as he'd wanted to have the reception _outside_, but Arthur had insisted that if the wedding was going to be outside, the reception had to be inside to provide _some_ relief from the elements—to the dance floor, to their friends scattered about—Percival was chatting with a friend of theirs, Gwaine was flirting with one of the girls Gwen worked with, and Gwen and Lancelot were out on the dance floor, slow dancing with a plethora of other couples around them.

"It's only _fair." _Arthur lamented.

"And _how is that?" _Merlin asked, looking back over to Arthur and grinning when he let his eyes wander down to the ring on his finger.

Arthur let said hand reach out to grab Merlin's, brought it up to his mouth and kissed the ring on his finger, eyes catching on Merlin's when his gaze came back up to meet his. Melting under the feeling, Merlin let out a sort of whimper that made Leon cough nervously from beside him.

"You know, we're _still here." _Elyan said pointedly, which, much to Merlin's dismay, made Arthur release Merlin's hand with a sheepish, smug look on his face before he fell back into what they'd been talking about only a moment ago.

"You got to say your vows first. I should get to feed you cake first." Arthur began, as though there had been no interruption or distraction at all.

"You led our first dance." Merlin pointed out, leaning back in his chair and relaxing against the cool metal of it as best he could.

"Because _you_ would have led us into a pile of flailing limbs and sounds that would have bordered on _lascivious_ on the floor."

"_And_ you're the one who proposed." Merlin added, watching as Arthur rolled his eyes and shrugged out of his suit jacket, leaving him in just the white shirt beneath it and the pale blue tie that he said felt much too constricting around his neck but that he agreed to leave on for the entire day anyway, because Merlin had asked him to. "Plus, you're the one who said thanks to everyone for being here."

"No—_that_ was because you were crying too much to say anything, _that_ wasn't my fault, that was Gwen's and Lancelot's and Gwaine's for giving those toasts." Arthur interjected, pointing insistently at Merlin, almost offended at the accusation. "Plus, you got to put my ring on me first. _And_ you planned this whole thing." Arthur waved his hands about the room, casting Merlin's glance every which way until he rolled them a moment later.

"Because _you_ wanted to wear _cloaks_ instead of _suits!_ I could hardly trust you to organize something like this if you wanted to wear a _cloak_ to our wedding. You probably would have gone out and found a crown as well, if I'd just left you to things."

"And what's wrong with cloaks, hm?"

"Nothing, if we were still back in Camelot." Merlin hissed, lowering his voice to be sure they weren't over-heard by any of the other guests. "But _now_ people do not wear _cloaks_ to weddings."

"It would have been _different_, then."

"For God sake, Arthur, we're talking about cake, not cloaks." Merlin rolled his eyes and shrugged off his suit jacket. Of course Arthur would still be sore about having to wear a suit instead of a cloak—_of course_ he would be.

"Fine." He narrowed his eyes at Merlin for a moment, watching him intensely as he rolled up his sleeves against the heat of the room. "What do you two think, then?" He asked, looking to Leon and Elyan, probably hoping that his knights would side with _him_, as they always did.

"Oh no," Leon shook his head, surprising both the grooms. "I am _not_ getting in the middle of _this_ argument."

"Me either." Elyan agreed. "It's _your_ wedding day; flip a coin and get on with it before Gwaine gets bored with the women and starts attacking the cake before either of you get to it."

"Flipping a coin will hardly solve this, Elyan." Arthur rolled his eyes, then looked back to Merlin. Merlin could see just beyond his eyes, could tell he was thinking, trying to come up with a plan to get his way. "I wore this stupid suit for you." He said at last, a desperate, last ditch effort if Merlin ever saw one.

"I planned the reception indoors for you."

"I came back from the dead for you."

"I waited over a thousand years for you." Merlin quipped back, deciding to leave out the bit that no, he did _not_ come back from the dead for Merlin, he rose from the depths of Avalon because Destiny or Fate or whatever had determined it was his time to do so. "_And_ I'm taking your last name."

"Because _you_ haven't really got one! And _I_ planned the honeymoon."

"_I'm_ going to _make_ the honeymoon worthwhile."

Arthur tried to bite back a grin at Merlin's comment, at the dirty look he shot him, at the way Leon and Elyan groaned, reminding the pair, once again, that they were _still there_.

And he failed miserably, dissolving into a perfectly _filthy_ chuckle not a moment later.

"Fine, you win." Arthur conceded a beat after he regained his composure, leaving Merlin feeling quite satisfied and triumphant, until— "And here I thought you'd want to be the one to try that cake first—you spent _ages_ trying to settle on something we'd all like, didn't you? And it looks so good too…" And, in that moment, Merlin was reminded, once again, that Arthur Pendragon simply did not play fair sometimes.

*.*.*.*.*

"I hate you." Merlin stated, watching as Arthur rolled his sleeves up to his elbow purposefully, grinning to himself as he did so, shooting Merlin a satisfied sort of look as everyone gathered around to watch them cut into the cake, to watch them shove a slice into each other's mouths—and then get some of their own, at some point.

"Not today you don't." Arthur replied, reaching out for the knife Gwen was holding out to him with a soft smile on her face. "_Today_, you love me more than anything else in the world." He grinned again, approaching the cake with Merlin close to him, unable to keep up any sort of angry or irritated façade when Arthur looked over the cake and gave Merlin a crinkly eyed smile just before turning back to it.

He swiftly cut out a slice and placed it on a plate from the table, left the knife behind as he tore off a sizable piece of the slice of cake, left the plate on the table, and approached Merlin with the bit of cake in his hands.

And he was so close to Merlin in that moment, grinning so widely as he took another step closer still, the cake in hand, white icing painting his fingertips as he told Merlin to open his mouth, that it almost felt like _a dream_, and he almost wanted to start crying again because everything was so real it was dreamlike and—_oh_, wasn't it all just so _perfect?_

"More than that, Merlin—I _know_ you can go wider." He teased, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Shut up." Merlin rolled his eyes, obeying anyway as he readied himself for what was about to come.

Then Arthur, still grinning, leaned in more and all but shoved the bit of cake into Merlin's mouth, making him reel slightly as he smiled against it even as Arthur pushed it farther back into his mouth. Before he had the chance to close his mouth to chew, he was pleasantly surprised by Arthur leaning into him, making a satisfied sort of sound as he cupped his cheek with the palm of one of his hands, and kissed him around the cake, smearing frosting across their lips in the best sort of ways, leaving them messy and giggling but uncaring of anything else around them.

Merlin sighed when he finally swallowed between kisses, resting his forehead against Arthur's before he kissed him again, nibbling pleasantly at some of the icing left along his upper lip.

Really, truly, it was… just an amazing day.

*.*.*.*.*

"That was… _exhausting." _Arthur groaned, kicking the door to their hotel room shut behind him as Merlin wandered in ahead of him, loosening his tie and finding the bed to plop himself down on with a groan of his own.

"Extremely." Merlin agreed, rubbing his tired eyes. The bed shifted under him a moment later and he looked over at Arthur, at the small smile on his face as he gazed at Merlin, sending a thrill through him as he returned the shy smile. "But… worth it. We're married now, Arthur. _Married." _

"I know. Hard to believe." He mumbled in response, hand coming to cup Merlin's face as he stroked his cheek tenderly, lovingly, and then kissed him just as tenderly. "Are you ready to spend the rest of your life with me?" He murmured teasingly against his lips.

"I'm ready to spend the rest of _eternity_ with you." Merlin murmured back, winding his hands up into Arthur's hair, under the tie still around his neck, and tugging him close again, kissing him to validate his point before Arthur grinned against his lips and pushed him down onto the bed, eliciting a throaty, almost _filthy_ chuckle from Merlin.

In all his years—truly—Merlin had never been more ready for anything at all.

*.*.*.*.*

* * *

**So it's a headcanon of mine that, whenever Arthur comes back and he and Merlin fulfill their destiny, Merlin will start aging again—I'm about 99% sure that, at the end of the series, Merlin is just using the aging spell to look old because you pay less attention to an old man wandering about the streets than you do an attractive young male. Or at least, if I saw Dragoon and Merlin walking the same strip of road, I'd pay more attention to Merlin than Dragoon because he's hella fine, but that's me—and at some point or another the pair of them will die and be together forever and ever in whatever sort of afterlife there might be. So, that's a thing for me and it sorta ties into this, in case you didn't catch onto that bit, because I'm fairly certain I alluded to it at some point or another, but I just thought I'd clear that up.**

**Anyway, be sure to let me know what you think. And definitely let me know if you cried at any point, because _I_ did, and it's always nice to know if your readers are sharing your tears. I'll shut up now.**

**Always,  
Hisa-Ai.**


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